Or tea?
Do you have any hot chocolate?
Hot chocolate. He laughed.
What’s so funny?
Nothing. He grinned. Are ye serious but?
What do ye mean?
Hot chocolate? Ye think I would have hot chocolate?
Pardon?
I did used to have some.
It doesnt matter, she said.
I’ve got peppermint tea and like eh green tea.
Fiona smiled. Your friends go on nonstop, she said, everybody talking and talking and talking. I thought they would never be quiet. That what-dye-call-him? Him with the ponytail.
Tony.
He plays in a band?
He does, aye . . .
She was looking to hear more but he could not be bothered. Tony was Tony and not really a friend. Well he was a friend, he wasnt a pal. Pals are friends but friends might not be pals.
Andy, she said.
Yeah?
She didnt answer.
What? he said.
Nothing.
So if it was nothing why mention the guy? Tony in some ways was a shit but fair enough; who cares, who cares. She didnt know that. But he was a shit. Especially with women he was a shit, just like women didnt seem to know until it was too bloody late, the guy was just a fucking – whatever, not a friend, well he was a friend, just not a pal. Who cares anyway. Andy was tired. She surely appreciated that. He had stretched out on his back again. What the hell time was it? Maybe there would be no sleep either. He closed his eyes. Maybe he could doze.
She was talking again. He was awful high though wasnt he? Ye would’ve thought he was on something. He acted like he was.
Andy closed his eyes.
You were high as well, she said.
Pardon?
Ye seemed to be.
I’m no sure what ye mean by ‘high’?
Do you play in a band? You yourself, do you play in a band?
No.
You’ve got that guitar.
Aye well I’ve got a fishing rod too. Actually I’ve got two fishing rods. What I mean by that, I dont do any fishing.
She shifted onto her back now and seemed fully awake. He wondered whether to switch on the light. She was gazing at him. Why not? she asked.
He looked at her.
If ye’ve got two fishing rods?
I only mean I’ve got two fishing rods and dont go fishing and it’s the same with guitars. I’ve actually got three of the buggers, if ye go in the other room. Plus a keyboard plus a fiddle. I sold my sax.
God . . .
Only kidding. What I mean is because I’ve got something doesnay mean I am something. I’ve got guitars but I dont – whatever, I’m not in a band. So to answer yer question: no, I dont play in a band.
Ye dont have to be nasty.
Nasty? I’m not being nasty.
I only asked a question.
I know ye did, sorry.
I thought ye played in a band because of how the blonde woman asked if ye would play when she sang.
Andy stared at her.
I know she asked ye and ye wouldnt, however ye said it, I saw ye shaking yer head. And then she asked him with the ponytail, the old guy.
He wouldnt like ye calling him ‘old’.
Well he is. When you wouldnt play she asked him. It would’ve been nice if ye had played.
Andy nodded.
I thought ye were going to. I’ve seen her in there before, the blonde woman. I would like to have heard ye. I thought ye would have and ye didnt. It would’ve been nice. Why didnt ye?
The thing is she was wanting to sing and it didnay matter who played. Well it did, but only in a wee way. She doesnay really care. It’s her thing and that’s that, whether it was me or somebody else. Anyway, I didnay have my guitar.
He offered ye his. Him with the ponytail. I saw him offering.
Andy sighed.
I saw him.
Yeah well.
Dont be so jaggy.
I’m not.
Yes ye are, ye’re edgy. It’s hard even to talk to you. Ye just seem to get stressed. I would like to have heard ye play, that’s all. I would just like to have heard ye play.
Sorry.
It’s not sorry. Ye dont have to say sorry. I dont need to know yer business. Obviously there’s something. But I dont care.
There isnt anything.
The way ye’re acting.
I didnt know I was acting. It’s Barbara ye’re talking about.
Fiona lay still. After a moment she said, I dont care. Just obviously there was something the way ye were acting. What about him with the funny hat, the man with the whistle? Is that a real instrument or what? I mean like a real musical instrument?
Of course.
He doesnt play in a band though does he? in a real band, I mean like playing a whistle!
Andy chuckled.
Seriously? It’s a real instrument?
Are you kidding?
No.
That’s Joe Wylie. Joe Wylie. He plays everything, the pipes, the flute, sax, clarinet, pibroch, the bloody bassoon. Everything.
What he plays them all?
Andy grinned. He carries the whistle in his pocket.
So he can just come out and play?
Exactly.
He sounds like a busker.
Huh! Joe Wylie! Probably he has busked anyway. He’s done just about everything else. Some buskers are good ye know.
Have you ever?
What?
Been a busker or been busking? however ye say it, have ye? Have you ever done it?
What?
Been a busker on the street?
Yeah, well.
Have ye!
Once or twice.
Did ye make any money?
Eh . . .
Ye would if it was New York or Paris or someplace. London, there’s buskers play down the tube. Imagine it happened here! Fiona chuckled.
It couldnt.
Of course it could.
No it couldnt, not down the subway, they’d get like arrested. The cops would move in. Music’s barred in this town.
Dont be silly.
I’m not being silly. It’s only in controlled areas. Like everything else. Subways are for going to work and other places of confinement. Everything’s controlled. The cops and politicians have it sewn up. Just like the rest of society.
But that’s everywhere!
I